Silk
by silkypie
Summary: My name is Silk. I was born in District 1. I volunteered for the Hunger Games. I think I might die. Please leave a review if you read, it's incredibly hard to improve without any feedback. Any constructive criticism is welcomed.
1. Preface

"Silk."

I spin around. He's standing right behind me, his pain pouring out through his eyes as he silently pleads with me. It won't work.

I turn on my heel and without turning back I stride into line, have my finger pricked and find my place in the gathering crowd. The microphone crackles to life and our – no, my – escort begins her ramblings. The treaty of Treason is read, the propaganda is played. And now it's my chance.

I raise my hand and speak the traditional words. The words that I've been waiting to say since I was old enough to understand what they mean. The words my entire District is waiting to hear.

"I volunteer as Tribute."


	2. Chapter One, Token

"Honestly Silk, I just don't get it." Glint is shaking his head at me. As if it was a surprise. "The Academy? But why?"

"Glint you know perfectly well why. I'm not going to waste my life as a jeweller who can't afford to wear her own rings." Why is he looking at me like that? Like I've betrayed him or something. We've discussed this before. I'm going to the Training Academy. I'm volunteering for the Games. I'm going to win. He's still arguing,

"But Silk, there are better ways-"

"It's decided Glint. I've been accepted. I start on Monday. End of story."

Not a word. He hasn't got a single word left. He's just glaring at me.

"Fine." And he's gone.

I shrug. Fine. If that's how he wants to play it, game on. I'll pick my token without him. There are shops for this. Shops selling jewels that match your birth year, crystals that match your eyes, charms that match your District. Honestly, District 1 can be so predictable. I don't want one of these commonplace, mass-produced trinkets. I want a real token. Something that I can be proud of, that I can look at and feel at home, no matter where I am. These shops just won't cut it.

I walk out, holding my bag open to security, so tight in this District. Too many little gems and easily concealed knickknacks to steal. Not that anyone would bother. Diamonds aren't worth a death sentence.

Home. I should go home. But I need a token before I start at the Academy. Well, I could probably detour through the markets on the way. I pick my way through the streets, lined with quaint wee townhouses sitting above the stores of their owners. A tea-parlour, a bakery, a glass-blower. I keep my eyes trained on the street ahead of me. The only money I have is for my token. I can't afford to be distracted.

The markets are humming today. Of course, Saturday is always busy, but it looks like I'm not the only kid that needs a token before the school year starts. Some stands are crowded with people. I don't even bother looking at them as I continue down. But there is a quiet spot just ahead of me, with a little old woman sitting cross-legged on a mat under a marquee. She's tanned, and has a faint hint of blonde hiding amongst her grey hair. It isn't until I reach her stall and meet her russet eyes that I recognize her. Angora. Victor of the 13th Hunger Games. I totally saw her Games on TV a couple of weeks ago! She formed a pack, with all of the Tributes from 1, 2 and 4, and after they had gotten her through to the final eight, she slit their throats in their sleep, leaving just her and a couple of kids from 7 and 9. They had survived so far by hiding together in a hollow trunk. They never stood a chance. Looking at her now, you would never believe she was a Victor. But I know it, and when she smiles at me, I decide this is somebody I want to meet.

"Silk." She grins, "I've been expecting you." Um what? How in Panem could she have possibly known I'd be here? She laughs at what I suppose is an extremely confused look on my face, and explains, "I'm on the Board at the Academy. I'm the one that accepted you." Oh. Well of course she knew I'd be out token hunting.

I sit down across from her and find myself at a loss words, but she easily fills the silence.

"So you're looking for a token." It isn't a question, but I nod silently. "Well, what do you want?" I'm still dumbfounded. An Avox would be easier to communicate with than me right now. "Silk, get it together. What is your token?"

This lady knows her stuff. Suddenly, abruptly, unexpectedly, I know exactly what my token will be. What it always was.


	3. Chapter Two, Academy

"Nice shot Silky!" Jinx slaps me on the back as I straighten up and assess my throw. The spearhead has completely impaled the bullseye. Not too shabby. Not unexpected either. When was the last time I missed? I don't even know. My right hand wraps around the gold ring on my left, and I feel the niggling pain of the tiny symbolic spearhead digging into my palm. I have a little scar in this exact spot, just from holding my token in this way so many times. Angora, who had become a beloved mentor of mine, passed two years ago. I've been forced to take on Flourish as a mentor. She's beyond hopeless. Couldn't tell a knife from a sword. I'm so over it. But with my token I find Angora, and with Angora, I excel.

I stride forward and carefully pull my spear from the target, then examine it for damage. There is none, it was a clean shot. Of course. "So Silky," Jinx is beside me again, "we're heading out for lunch after training, you in?"

"Who's us?" I'm not in the mood for lunch with eleven year olds.

"The gang, duh. You, me, Spark, Grace and Noble." Oh right, _the gang_.

"I'm in." I ignore the angry protests of my useless mentor. She's screeching at me, trying to tell me that I need to do some work on my archery. As if. I'm lucky to hit the target with a bow and arrow, let alone the bullseye. I'm out.

We stroll through the streets, laughing, yelling; generally making our presence known. It's how we do it. We attract attention. Every single person we walk past is a potential future sponsor. They need to know, they need to understand. We are fearless. We are strong. We are champions.

We rule this town.

Spark has decided that she wants to go to the tea house, right in the centre of town. Good cupcakes. It's busy, and the kids from the regular school are dotted around in their little groups. Peasants. Staring at us. Not unusual. We're used to attention, and we enjoy it, bask in it. It's what we have been taught to do. But today is different. Today, he's with them.

I haven't spoken to Glint since I was eleven. That day in the token shop. Not for lack of trying, but he refused to so much as acknowledge my presence until I quit the academy. Not going to happen. I'm sixteen now, it's been five years. What's that saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, Glints heart is still ice cold. And I'm beyond caring. We've gone our separate ways.

So why is he glaring daggers at me? Jinx jabs me in the shoulder roughly and I realise I've stopped in the middle of the street to stare back. "Silk, what are you doing?" He looks concerned, as if I'm losing the plot. Maybe I am, because when I turn back to where Glint was standing, he is nowhere to be seen. No, scratch that, I can see the back of his head bobbing away down an alley.

I'm still pondering the Glint scenario when we return to the Academy for our afternoon training, but when Flourish dances up to me, I'm forced to shove the issue to the back of my mind. She looks happy about something. Ugh. I brush past her and escape into the changing rooms.

"It's about time you caught up Silk." Grace has been waiting for me, hands on hips, toes tapping. For a while apparently. "You and Jinx are forever disappearing behind us. What do you two get up to huh?" Really? This again? Such little faith they have in me.

"Grace, he's just my best friend and you know it."

"Yeah yeah. That doesn't explain why we always seem to leave together and return separately." Ok, this is getting beyond ridiculous. I change in silence, and when I finally get myself into my tracksuit – my favourite cobalt number with tiny gems lining the sleeves- I make a hasty exit, calling over my shoulder,

"We're slow walkers Grace. Deal with it."

I take a step back in shock as I'm met outside the door with an odd deja vous. Before me stands Flourish, who is assuming the exact same pose as Grace had been minutes earlier. She can be harder to shake than a barrel of concrete. Jinx sidles up alongside me, sporting that familiar eye-sparkle that tells me he's planning something. And it probably won't be good for me. _Come on Jinx, _I think, _let's not sabotage me so close to the reaping._

"Silk, I need to talk to you." Obviously. "Privately." Yes. "By yourself." I turn to Jinx and roll my eyes before turning away from his cackling laughter and following Flourish into her 'office'. Really it's just a glorified broom cupboard with a desk. Flourish spins around and her face cracks into a blinding smile. Well, it would be blinding if she had some sort of nice feature to compliment it. It's no wonder she had to win without a single sponsor. But according to her face, now is not the time to ponder her more attractive features – or lack thereof. She genuinely has news for me. "Silk, it's you." She's beaming at me. What is she on about? Of course it's me. Does she have any idea how hard it would be to impersonate someone with this much skill?

"Um, yeah. It is me."

"No, Silk. _It's you_."


	4. Chapter Three, Reaped

I'm jolted awake by the sound of an overhead hovercraft. It's today. I stare up at my ceiling, glowing softly in the early morning sunlight. All my thoughts push at each other to try and occupy my thoughts, but I shove them all away and try to lie in peace for a few minutes before I get up.

It's early. No need to rush anything today. I take my time in the bath, letting the bubbles rise and then disappear before I'm able to motivate myself to get out. I pull on the dress I've been saving for this very occasion. It's crimson red, knee-length, cinched in at the waist, silk. More than its physical appearance though, which is gorgeous, I love this dress because of its previous owner. It's traditional to wear the reaping outfit of a past Victor if you're planning to volunteer. It gives the commentators something to talk about, somebody to compare you to. Most people wear replicas, since Victors usually aren't too keen on giving up any of their multitudes of clothing. But this is the real thing. Because the Victor I'm imitating has no need for this dress anymore. This is the dress Angora wore, sixty-one years ago, when she volunteered.

I yank open the top draw of my worn old dresser and extract a pearl necklace and earrings. The pearls come all the way from District Four, via the Capitol. They were sent to us when my mother was lost – we still have no idea what happened to her – from some old admirer of hers in the Capitol. Yeah, both my parents were Victors. Didn't seem to help them when the disease hit. I of course only know the stories – I was much too young to remember it – but apparently a devastating disease ripped through the District. It wiped out a good quarter of our population, including my father. That's when my mother left. Like I said, we have no idea where she went, but they gave her a plaque next to father's grave. I don't miss them. Never did. But I want to wear these pearls because of their journey. They came to me from the Capitol. I come to the Capitol from District 1. Or I will have, by the days end.

After a rather extensive internal debate, my hair ends up being brushed out and left to hang down my back, with an inconspicuous headband working to keep it out of my face. It will be restyled in a few hours anyway. I glance outside and see a few of my friends, and acquaintances, gathering in the Academy courtyard. Time to go. One last check in the mirror tells me I look alright. I'll look better by the time my stylist is done with me.

Jinx isn't around. Odd. I don't want to sound nervous, not when so many people are around, but I catch Spark's eye, and the look he gives me is comforting. Jinx is running late. Yeah, trust him. Probably lost his tie or something. He'll catch up. I join the group and we head off. It's tense between us. Nobody is allowed to know who has been chosen before the reaping. Makes for a more dramatic show I guess. So nobody knows that it's me, and nobody knows that it's not their best friend, or their training partner, or their sister.

I briefly wonder about who the male Tribute is. But there isn't much point worrying about these things. There are so many kids at the Academy, and it could be any one of them. It'll probably be some eighteen year-old who's been trying to impress the selectors for so long that they've let him in from pity.

We make it to the main square in good time, and mill about in front of the Justice Building while the younger kids go get identified and form a group near – but not too near – the stage. Still no Jinx, I might not see him before the reaping. Oh well, I'll see him when he comes to say goodbye anyway. I'm busy listening to a particularly hilarious story of Nobles when I feel a sharp tap on my shoulder. What on- oh. It's Glint. Must've heard. Probably decided he suddenly cares about me now that my dreams are becoming a reality. He pulls me aside.

"What." I have nothing to say to this boy. I just want to get back to Noble and the gang. The story was just getting good. He grips my shoulder in an attempt to stop me from turning away.

"I've heard rumours Silk."

"Have you now? How interesting." Go away. Go away go away go away.

"Don't do it. Please. Don't do it."

"This is absolutely none of your business. None." I've heard more than enough. I twist out of his grasp and begin to walk away.

"Silk."

I spin around again and shoot him my death glare. I'm renowned for it, the look I used to give the target when I missed, the look I give Flourish when she tries to order me around. Even Jinx has been known to flinch when faced with it. But it's like Glint is looking past my eyes, like he doesn't even notice. He's standing right behind me, his pain pouring out through his eyes as he silently pleads with me. It won't work. This boy doesn't care about me. This boy means nothing to me. This boy is not about to stop me.

I turn on my heel and without turning back I stride into line, have my finger pricked and find my place in the gathering crowd. I outdo the sting in my finger by clutching my ring, digging the tip of the spearhead into the old, gradually deepening scar on my palm. The mob of kids thickens, and finally the microphone crackles to life. Our – no, my – escort begins her ramblings. The treaty of Treason is read, the propaganda is played. And now, finally, it's my chance.

My friends. My mentor. My trainers. Glint. Jinx. The whole District – wait, the whole country – watches as I raise my hand and speak the traditional words. The words that I've been waiting to say since I was old enough to understand what they mean. The words my everybody is waiting to hear.

"I volunteer as Tribute."

Silence. It's all I hear as I make my way onto the stage. Never, in my memory, has this District been quiet after a volunteering. So what's going on? What do they know that I don't? I glance over the crowd. I'm not the only one looking confused – the other Academy kids are all scrunched up in the face too. Jinx. He must know. Jinx has always been my source of information, if anything has been going on, he'll know about it. It takes me a while to spot him – I've been looking for a confident, smiling, encouraging face amongst the grimness of the crowd. But his face is worse. Worse than the confusion of my peers. Worse than the sombreness of my people. Because Jinx does not look confused. He does not look sombre. Jinx looks heartbroken.


	5. Chapter Four, Betrayal

"Silk." I strain to keep my voice steady as I declare my name into the microphone. Jinx stares straight through me as I'm ushered away from the microphone so my escort can speak. I don't understand. All I know is that suddenly, I regret this. This is wrong. I fight the urge to run away, home, the Academy, anywhere but here. And I don't even understand why. I pick up a movement in my peripherals. The escort is about to reach into the Reaping bowl. No. This can't be right. Those bowls are just decoration. There are always volunteers. So why is the male taking so long? I don't understand. Not until Jinx raises his hand.

Blur. All the lines blur. I can't tell truth from reality. Or maybe truth is reality. Maybe it's this world in my head that is a lie. I blink quickly, trying to straighten out my vision. This will not become my weakness, I decide. He will not make a weakling out of me. Traitor. He walks onto the stage, says his name, turns to me. No. I don't want to shake his hand. I won't. I won't touch him. No. I reach out and he takes my hand. Squeezes it. Some sort of sick message? What? _You're the first to die? Nice try? Maybe in your next life? Sorry sweetpea, but you're just a little gullible for my taste._ I squeeze his hand back. _Kill me if you can._

I feel a pressure in the middle of my back as the escort pushes me and the traitor into the Justice Building. We shuffle through the foyer, up a staircase, down a hallway, then we stop and the escort pops off mumbling something about a room mix-up.

_"Silk."_ Noise? It sounds so… so distant. I'm still detached from reality. Or is it truth? Great. First my vision, then my hearing, and now my mind. Gone.

_"Silk, please." _ No, it's not noise. Or truth. Or reality. It's just a nightmare. I pinch the back of my arm. Hard.

_"C'mon Silk."_ You're kidding. This is real. And now I'm gonna have a bruise on my arm. Oh well, might make me look a bit tougher.

"Silk." I shake my head and his voice finally registers and turn towards the suddenly clear sound. That was a mistake. He grabs me under the chin and twists my head up to look at him. I never realised just how massive this boy is. "Silk listen. I didn't know. I swear to you. I didn't know." I stand, unemotional, uncaring, indifferent, as his pressure on my jaw increases to the point of pain. I am silent as he tries to force a sound out of me. Is he crazed? No. He's just a good actor. My situation has apparently been noted by a couple of Peacekeepers, and they pull him off me. Efficient, aren't they? He's still yelling, but I'm turned through a doorway and left alone. The moment the doors close, silence takes back its grasp.

Classmates. Peers. Acquaintances. Allies. Friends. Best friends. Soul mates. Volunteers. Tributes. Partners. Enemies.

I door flies open again and the gang, or what's left of it, surges in. Grace envelopes me in what becomes one big group hug. Noble buries her face in my neck and mumbles some sort of sympathetic verse about 'if she'd only know' and 'she would have told me.' Grace just clings to my shoulders and manages to soak the shoulder of my dress. With tears. Ugh. It's Spark, who honestly, I didn't expect to show up, that helps the most. Or the least. I'm struggling to decide. He meets my eye, and in the simple shake of his head he answers the only question that matters. Jinx didn't know.

We say our goodbyes, which are relatively uneventful. Everyone at the Academy understands that any one of their peers could be reaped. They're proud of me, despite the fact that if I return, Jinx will not. Although, they probably haven't even considered that I might return instead of Jinx. I may have almost perfect aim with a spear, toned muscles and quick reflexes, but I keep my skills to myself. Jinx, on the other hand is huge, ripped, and the worst show-off I know. When he lifts a record weight, we know. When he kills the latest dummy, we know. Nothing is secret. And that, I decide, will be his weakness. The gang disappears and I sit back on the plush window seat, staring out over my District, expecting to be collected for the train ride any hour now. It comes as a shock when the door opens and Glint walks in. Crap. Crap crap crap. I have nowhere to run this time, and he knows it. I stand up and brace myself. Nothing. He's just looking at me. Honestly, he is the hardest person to predict. I lift my head up higher and meet his eyes.

"It's too late Glint. It's done." He shakes his head, almost sadly, and says something I never, ever would have seen coming.

"You don't stand a chance Silk."


	6. Chapter Five, Breakdown

Turns out the escorts name is Gardenia. She's just what you expect from the Capitol – insane. She wears the most beautiful clothing I've ever seen, but she wears too much of it – jackets over jerseys over jumpers over shirts over dresses. If she would just chill out and wear one outfit at a time, she would look amazing. She also never stops talking. Ever. It's a relief to finally make it to the train station where I board and have an avox show me to my room. Walking through the train, I try to block the emotions, seal them away somewhere that they can't escape from. When I step into my room, I find that it's bigger than my entire house. The simple comparison between this room and my own bedroom at home is enough to break the frail seal I had on my emotions.

Suddenly, my situation hits me like a tsunami, flooding my mind and knocking me backwards. Back pressed against the wall, I lock the door and try to deny the tears that are slowly filling my eyes. I rip off the stupid dress and the stupid pearls and my stupid shoes and throw them down. I wrench the drawers open and tip their entire contents onto the floor. I locate the closet and start yanking dresses off their hangers, throwing them against the walls. I pick up armfuls of clothing off the floor and hurl them at the door. I look up at the door. It's shaking. Pulsing. I return to myself and realise that I've been screaming. The doors' shaking is caused by somebody hammering on it, trying to break in.

"SILK!" It's Jinx. "SILK OPEN UP. LET ME IN. OPEN THE DOOR OR I'LL BREAK IT OPEN." I want to scream at him, I want to open that door and rip his throat out. But I don't.

"No." I pick up Angora's dress, my mother's pearls. Give them a new home on the dresser. Jinx has stopped trying to break down the door, and I think he's given up and left when I hear his moans, muffled by the door.

"I didn't know. I didn't know. I didn't know."

I stare at the floor, searching for an outfit that I haven't half-destroyed. I find a pair of black trousers and a purple polo shirt. They'll do. I put them on and unlock my door. When I open it, I find Jinx huddled against the opposite wall, head in hands. He lifts his head to look at me, and I can see him working to remain expressionless. "You were screaming." He said plainly.

"Yeah."

"I didn't know."

"Yeah."

I held out my hand and helped him up. Just like that. I must be an idiot.


	7. Chapter Six, Realisations

We wander through to the dining car, and join our mentors. Flourish is beaming, those odd green eyes bugging almost out of her skull. It just shows how clueless she really is. What's to be happy about? This was meant to be my time. My time to be in the spotlight, to meet the Capitol, to win. How can I possibly do that when Jinx is stalking my moods?

We sit down. Where, I don't know. My entire mind is at that moment consumed by what was sitting on the table in front of me. The food. It's incredible. I become completely absorbed in what I'm eating – most of which I cannot name. Gardenia names some for me – ravioli and soufflé and caviar (although after gulping down a spoonful of that last one I rather wish she hadn't pointed it out). As the rich food warms me from the inside out, I begin to realise that of course, Jinx didn't know. He didn't know I was volunteering any more than I knew he was. How could he? The volunteers are kept strictly secret before the reaping, and once you've been selected, there's no backing out. The board at the Academy did this to us, had the two of us reaped together. For what? As I chew away at my steak, I can think of only one reason: entertainment. It sickens me, but really, I've always known that's the purpose of the Games. And I signed up for this. And now I'm going to the Capitol. I can't complain.

We eat until we're sick to the stomach – or I do anyway. Jinx seems remarkably agile for the amount of food he's inhaled, but that's Jinx for you. I struggle to make it back to my room, where I flop down on the bed and try to keep from groaning as I watch the wilderness whizz by my window. I must doze off, because next thing I know I'm flying through the air. I land on the (surprisingly soft) carpet with a thud and turn to see Jinx gaping at me from my bed. His shock turns into sniggering as he tries to contain his laughter.

"You threw me. Off my bed." I glare up at him. Which apparently only makes the situation funnier. Go figure.

"No," he chokes out as he tries in vain to breath between snorts, "I just sat down. The bed threw you off the bed."

"What are you doing in here anyway?" I swallow as the nausea creeps up on me – my little nap did nothing to settle my stomach.

"I came to see if you wanted to hang."

"Hang what?"

Ok, so I've never been the most up to date girl around. Abbreviations mess with me and I find it much more appropriate to say 'hello' than 'sup'. That never stopped Jinx though.

"Hang _out_. You know, spend time together?" I decided not to mention that since we're stuck together for the next week – on the train, in the Remake Centre, at the Opening Ceremony, in the Training Centre etc. etc. – we don't really have a choice but to spend time together. So we go for a walk down to the last car of the train – Jinx tells me it's called a caboose- and watched, well, trees, go by. The fresh air soothes my growling tummy. There isn't much out here in the middle of nowhere. It makes me wonder, what's so scary about all the wilderness stuff they keep warning us about? I decide then and there that if I get home, I'll go and find out. I keep this to myself, remembering that if I come back, Jinx wouldn't. I think he's pondering the same thing, because he's taken on that sad expression I saw at the reaping, and when he looks at me, it deepens.


	8. Chapter Seven, Welcome

"Woah." My mouth drops open as the Capitol rolls into sight. Splendid, grand, imposing. There isn't a word that can describe the way your stomach flips and your eyes bug and your knees buckle and you're paralysed with awe. And then we pull into the train station and the people approach. Is people even the right word for them? They may as well be a different species, with their jewels and makeup and colours. Oh the colours. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. They bore into your mind and stick there, so even when I close my eyes, I can still see them. Our train is swarmed by cheering – could they possibly be _fans_? This is awesome. Jinx grips my shoulder and I realise he disagrees. He's gone white. Jinx, the most insanely tanned, golden-skinned, looks-like-he-was-raised-on-a-beach guy that I know. White. I shriek at an avox who runs over with a stool and a fan and I push him down as the avox starts frantically trying to wave some colour back into him.

"Jinx. What's your problem?" Idiot has been preparing his whole life to come here and now we're both missing it because he's got a case of the butterflies.

"I'm not ready for this Silk."

"What? Of course you are. You're being stupid. You were ready yesterday."

"That was before I knew the stakes." I see it in his eyes; _before I knew that you would be my partner_. I feel cheated. By the people who were supposed to care. About me, about him. About us, as students. We've been betrayed.

I pull Jinx to his feet by his shirt collar and bring his face to mine. I can see the shock in his face – he had no idea I was strong enough for this – but I hold him there and wait for him to meet my eyes.

"Pull yourself together Jinx. We're here. Both of us. And no amount to whining is going to change that. So you're just going to have to deal with it."

I've taken him by surprise, and that seems to be enough to get through to him. He stands up properly, brushes his shirt back into place and turns to wave out the window as we grind to a halt at the platform.

They have to sneak us out through trapdoors beneath the train – it seems a little unfair to me, to deprive our fans like that, but they'll see plenty of us at the Opening Ceremony tonight. I expect us to drop into a cold sewer where our footsteps echo and our minds darken, but we descend tranquilly into a well-lit, heated corridor. I suppose this isn't the first time the District One Tributes have been popular. It doesn't take long for us to reach the end of the corridor and emerge into the Remake Centre.

If I thought the Justice Building was flash, I realised I was mistaken when we got onto the train. But in comparison to the Remake Centre, the Justice Building may as well have been lying in ruins. And no doubt things are only going to get better when we make it to the Training Centre. We don't really get a chance to look around as we're each shepherded into separate rooms. I don't know what Jinx is looking at right now, but my room oozes a sort of dignity in its pale tones and minimalistic furnishings. I sink into a plush cream-coloured couch and relax – whatever I'm meant to be doing here, I'm not expected to do it for myself. I feel a current of air brush past me as the door silently swings open and my brief moment of peace is stolen as a squealing, gasping, chattering prep team surges in. They do introduce themselves, but I couldn't care less about what their real names are – I've already named them for myself. The tall one with purple patches all over his skin – some sort of fashionable tattooing? – is now named Patch. The, uh, plump one with the green hair is now named Pudge and the short one with little black vines crawling from the tips of her fingers up her arms – more tattoos? – is now named Creeper. Patch, Pudge and Creeper. I'm satisfied with that. The only thing about them that I take any notice of is the _sparkles. _They drag methrough into _another _room before starting my makeover, but all I register is that all three of them are glittering and shining and shimmering as they move about plucking hairs and scrubbing limbs. I'm mesmerized by it, and it doesn't take long before Patch notices.

"You like sparkles?" he smiles at me. Ok, he's pretty odd looking, but I decide that he's cool.

"Yeah. I like sparkles." Fascinating reply, I know. I'm distracted ok? Patch suddenly looks all excited and rushes off.

When Patch finally shows up again, the other two are all but finished with my prep. His eyes are puffy and red – has he been crying? – but he wears a triumphant looking smile. I wonder what exactly he has triumphed over. He pulls Pudge and Creeper off to the side and whispers something into their ears, and next thing I know, they're buzzing around me like a disturbed bee swarm. Frankly, it's terrifying.

"He said yes!" Patch manages to force out three words before falling into an incoherent rambling. I think I hear the words 'sparkly' and 'eyebrows' somewhere in there before they push me back into the makeup chair and make me close my eyes. The next thing I am aware of is the pain as my seemingly innocent prep team sets my forehead on fire.

I struggle against them, try to get up and open my eyes, but they were prepared, and have weighted me down. With weights that even Jinx couldn't lift. I lie in agony for probably half an hour before it begins to subside. When I can finally think through the dwindling ache, all I hear is "Now she looks perfect" and "Oh, she's beautiful" so apparently, the pain was worth it. Eventually, they lift the weights off me and let me up. I open my eyes and Patch drags a mirror in front of me.

Wow.


	9. Chapter Eight, Ceremony

I twirl around in front of the mirror as Thaliana grins at me, her violet eyes dancing as she admires her work. My stylist. She is phenomenal. My dress, I can't believe that something so beautiful could possibly be made for me. And with it on, I look… I look like a goddess. It's a twinkling gold gown hemmed with jewels – rubies, sapphires, diamonds. You name it, my dress is glittering with it. They cluster around the hem and crawl up around my legs, the bravest even reaching up to my hips. I had thought that the gems themselves were the best thing about the dress. But then I moved. The sparkling and shining and shimmering at my feet make me look like I'm floating, gliding above the ground, free. When I finally pull my attention from my dress up to my face, I'm struck again by how striking I look. Turns out the prep team tattooed me. Arching above my eyebrows are two golden lines, starting at the insides of my eyebrows and arching back over my forehead and down to my temples and running back into my hairline. The contrast turns my plain blue eyes to piercing ice. I love this place. In District One, luxury means cutting and polishing and selling sapphires to make a living. In the Capitol, luxury means having liquid gold injected into your face and yellow diamonds set into your arms as a fashion statement. My usually straight, plain brown hair now shines with honey highlights and waves down my back. A headband of woven gold leather pulls it back from my face. My token adorns my finger as the sole piece of jewellery in the ensemble.

"You ready to go?" I take a deep breath and tear myself away from my reflection.

"Sure. Let's do this."

Thaliana links her arm through mine and guides me to the elevator which will take me down to the stables, where the parade will begin. As we reach the door she stops and lets go of me. "Aren't you coming?" I feel a panic begin to rise from my gut at the thought of going down there alone.

"Honey, relax. I'm coming down soon, I've just got to grab the capes."

"The what?" She clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head.

"Nothing, I'll be down there soon." Before I can say any more, she turns away. I watch her retreating back until the elevator doors slide shut. The knot in my stomach slows down the ride, and when I finally emerge into the stables the unsettling quiet does nothing to help my nerves. It looks like I'm one of the last to arrive, and the place is packed with Tributes, stylists, mentors, escorts and horses, but there is hardly a sound. I spot Jinx nearest the huge double doors that I assume we'll soon be surfacing through. We match. I mean, he's not wearing a dress, but his trousers are gold and hemmed in jewels and his shir- he's not wearing a shirt. Seriously? His chest has been dusted in gold powder and like me, he wears his token – a fine bronze chain around his neck. He's gawking at me, like I've sprouted a second head or something. I squash my nerves down, lift my head, stride over and stop right in front of him. He just stares at me.

"What?" I demand.

"Uh, n-nothing." He splutters back at me. Moron. What's his problem?

"Why is it so quiet?"

"It wasn't until you showed up." He glances over my shoulder and I twist around to see what he's looking at only to find that everybody else is looking back at me. Or us. A grin creeps onto my face as I notice the intimidation, even fear, in their eyes. The only kids who don't look away when I meet their gaze are the other Careers, and curiously, the boy from 9. He's slight, with dusky brown hair in spikes and darkness in his face that makes me wonder what has happened to him to bring him here. When our eyes meet, he just smirks at me. Odd. My attention is diverted when Gardenia taps me on the back.

"Silk. Jinx." she begins a spiel on how to behave during the ceremony – don't smile, or wave. Heads high. No eye contact. Don't touch each other. Stand up straight. Hold on tightly, with one hand only. Nothing I don't already know. We're loaded onto the chariot and Gardenia occupies herself with the back of my dress, making sure it hangs over the back just so. Wouldn't want it to trail in a funny way would we? I zone out as she continues chattering at us, and my mind wanders back home. What's everybody doing now? Placing bets no doubt. Who are they betting on? Not me. They have no reason to bet on me, not when I'm going up against Jinx. Maybe I'll get a couple of pity votes. I almost jump out of the chariot when Thaliana grabs my shoulder. As it is, I cuss loud enough to create an echo in the cavernous room and earn myself quite a scolding from Gardenia.

"Chillax Silk." Jinx leans in and whispers in my ear. Yeah, that helps. I leap away and crash into the side of the chariot. Gardenia looks like she's at the end of her tether, and I don't blame her. I haven't even been in the Capitol for a full day and I'm losing the plot already. I'm not even going to get pity votes.

I try to straighten myself with as much dignity as possible and turn to Thaliana. She looks sympathetic, and holds up a golden shawl. It shimmers like the rest of my dress, but when she moves it, it looks like its floating, entirely detached from her grip. She drapes it over my arms at the elbows, and attaches a similar cape to Jinx's shoulders. She and Gardenia to one last sweep, straightening hems and smoothing hairs, and the doors swing open. The horses lurch forward into a trot and the screams of the crowd escalate to a deafening volume as we emerge, the first Tributes to appear in the Opening Ceremony.


	10. Chapter Nine, Bruises

"Just let me sleep already Gardenia, please?" She's making us all eat dinner before we go to bed. We only got fifteen minutes to change when we got in, so I'm stuck in the black trackies and t-shirt that I threw on. I'm so not hungry, not after the lunch I had on the train. I consider myself lucky to have avoided a reappearance of that caviar during the Opening Ceremony. But I scoff down as much food as I can while the adults talk at me. I try my best to ignore them, but when my name comes up, I'm forced to tune in.

"Jinx, Silk." We look up together and I notice Jinx try to swallow his mouthful whole so he can speak.

"What?" he gargles.

Gardenia looks us each in the eye before continuing. "Tomorrow training starts. So you'll decide now. Are you in this together?"

"Yes."

"No."

We look at each other. I glare at Jinx and he stares back at like I've slapped him. And then his face changes. To anger.

"Are you kidding me Silk? I thought we were past this!" he slams his fist onto the table, hard enough to knock his glass into the remnants of his dinner and send me jumping out of my seat so quick my chair clatters to the floor. He stares me down until I involuntarily step back and almost collide with the avox that was righting my chair. Suddenly his face falls and he sits back, meeting Gardenia's shocked eyes.

"I'm sorry" he mumbles.

I straighten my shirt and look at Gardenia.

"My answer is no." I spin on my heel and march straight to my room, shoving an avox out of my way as I go.

My dramatic exit was somewhat tainted by the fact that the stupid Capitol doors don't slam, but I think I got my point across. I fling myself onto my plush rug and scream into the floor. Stupid Jinx. Stupid Capitol. Stupid games.

"Silk! Get out of bed!" So apparently sleeping on the floor is not a good idea when you have a full day of training to do when you get up. I groan as I stretch out the sleep in my stiff limbs and roll my head, checking that my neck still functions. It does. I ruffle through the draws in the closet until I come across what looks like a training outfit – white tracksuit with black racing stripes down the sides. I yank it on, snatch my hair back into a ponytail and go out to breakfast. Thaliana shakes her head at me when I sit down across from her. As an avox dumps food onto my plate, she pops out of her seat and flits over to fix my hair into a sleeker version of itself. Jinx isn't around, so I assume he's already left and hurry my food down. I will not give him any more advantage over me than he already has.

The elevator ride down to the Training room is just as bad as the one to the stables, and I have to take a moment to compose myself before I step out. I'm one of the first Tributes here, and the few others all turn to stare at me for a moment before returning to their activities. Jinx isn't one of them. Huh. He must still be in bed.

I notice one of the adults calling me over, so I wander towards her. She gives me the speech. You know, don't attack each other, don't leave out survival skills, you're probably going to die. Total bullshit, the lot of it. The first thing they teach you at the Academy back home is to ignore the Capitol trainers. So I smile and nod and wait for her to finish, then walk straight past her and pick up a bow and arrow. I could never save my life with one of these, but I should at least practice, and I figure I should get the more pathetic stuff out of the way before too many Tributes arrive.

And it is truly pathetic. I hit the target at least, but I'm miles off from the bullseye. I've just skewered a dummy's left ear when somebody grabs me by the shoulders. Not in the friendly, hey how's it going way, but in the slightly painful, move and I'll dislocate your shoulder way. I lower my bow, lift my chin and turn my head towards the face which is resting on my shoulder, breathing down my neck.

"Hey honey." The boy from 9. Skinny, but strong. Or at least, his hands are. I can feel the bruises blooming under his fingers.

"Nine." I keep my voice even, my head high. This boy will not know how terrified I am. This boy will be the first to die. He seems to guess what I'm thinking, and leans in even closer to breathe in my ear.

"Just you try." His hands disappear, and the rest of him with them. I turn around slowly and see that Jinx has shown up. And seen my little conversation with Nine. He takes a step towards me when I met his eyes, but I turn and quickly take a shot with my final arrow. I hit the dummy to the right of mine and flinch as I hear laughter echoing around me. Boys. After all these years, it's still the boys that get to me.


	11. Chapter Ten, Crazy

"It wasn't all that interesting really," I try to explain to Flourish that yes, I behaved myself today. "Honestly, I just played around with a couple of weapons and learnt to tie knots in a rope, if anything it was dull." I think Jinx has tipped her off about my little encounter this morning, because she's relentless. I don't know what she thought I would say, but my poker face obviously doesn't match her expectations, because she's steadily becoming more and more irritated, and tipsy on top of that. She waves an avox over to refill her glass with the blue liquor she's been drinking and I decide that enough is enough. "Flourish, just give me tomorrows instructions already." When she refuses, I rise and head down the hallway towards my room. She might be a bit more forthcoming at breakfast. Too late, I realise that Jinx is walking straight at me. I don't even have time to hesitate before he's blocked my way and is staring down at me, silently, yet effectively demanding an explanation. I stare stubbornly back at him. Our gazes hold as seconds drag into minutes until finally, he relents with a sigh.

"Silk, this is crazy." He unfolds his arms and holds his palms towards me, surrendering. As if it would ever be that easy.

"No. You know what's crazy Jinx? It's crazy that I've been training since I was twelve to be here, and it's crazy that I ever expected this to work out how I planned, and it's crazy that just when I thought I'd get my time in the spotlight, you jumped in and stole it. Again. And it's crazy that I didn't see that coming. And it's crazy that you now expect me to just let it go and act like everything is normal because it's pretty damn crazy Jinx, that in the next two weeks, I'm going to die." That did it. His mask of passiveness is suddenly ripped from his face, leaving it raw and aching.

"Silk."

"Save it Jinx. If I ever stood a chance, I lost it when you raised your hand." I take advantage of his shock and shove past him, letting the relief flood over me as I close the door behind me. I want to cry again. I want to scream and throw things and rip out my heart and toss it away. But I can't. I can't even move. The truth of my words with Jinx smashes into my chest, leaving me gasping for air. It's all I can do to stagger to my bed and press my face into my pillow before the world starts spinning and the black spots behind my eyes expand and swallow me.

When I wake up, I'm bleeding. My arms are painted in scratches running from my shoulders to my wrists, and my legs look much the same. It's been years since I've scratched myself in my sleep. The last time would have been the night before Angoras funeral. Dark times bring out the worst in me, but never while I'm awake. Great. Now I get to go and face them. Flourish will throw a fit at me, for downplaying everything yesterday. Thaliana will hit the roof at the thought of having to conceal the mess. Jinx. Jinx will spin out. And so he should. It's the thought of showing Jinx how much he hurts that pulls me out of bed and pushes me down the hallway, albeit on my tiptoes. But the voices trailing up the hallway overhaul my intentions. They're low, hushed, as if they don't want to be heard. They seem to have forgotten that there are two Tributes here. Typical. What are they on about?

I sneak forward a few more steps and the mumbling becomes clearer.

"I have to tell her." That's Jinx's voice. Is he talking about me? "I know her. If she doesn't think she can win, she's going to give up."

"Well it's your job to make sure she doesn't. I don't care Jinx, this is what you've been training for. You put your name down for this. Make it happen." I'm confused. The words start spinning, tossing and turning in my head. None of them fit together right. I don't even realise that I'm lying, face first on the floor until somebody tries to pull me up. I blink the clouds out of my eyes and take in the scene, which has entirely transformed in the time I've been… what? Passed out? I don't even know what happened. Flourish and Thaliana are each holding me up under an arm, and I shunt them both off.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Get off!" I notice Jinx – never quite the master of subtlety – growling at Gardenia,

"This. This is what happens. It's a breakdown Gardenia. Just let me tell-"

"No. And that's the end of this." Gardenia raises her voice as she turns to me. Does she really think I can't hear her? "Silk, you're going to have to deal with this, somehow or another." Jinx looks agonized, but over what, I still can't be sure. My head is a mess, but Gardenia's right. Now is not a good time for a meltdown. I might have to die, but I can at least die with some dignity. I hold my bloody arms out.

"I'm going to need something for this."

All eyes flicker to my arms, and then to my legs, and finally, back to my face. In a feeble attempt to cling to a shred of my fast-disappearing dignity, I raise my head and meet each of their eyes in turn. I leave Jinx until last, and rightly so, because the rage in his face makes my knees weak. I feel an irrational feeling of terror well up inside me, and despite my best efforts to dam to the tears, they threaten to burst out. My head drops, which doesn't help because suddenly I'm staring at my own blood, caked over my skin like a sickly red frosting. It unnerves me, and suddenly, I have to get it off. I wipe at my arms, and when that doesn't work, the claws come out. I scuff and scratch at every piece of skin I can reach. People grab at me, try to stop me, who? I'm too wound up to see them properly. I swing around and am about to claw out my attacker's eyes when I'm slammed against the wall. I gasp for air as Jinx grabs my wrists and pins them under his hands and presses his nose to mine. I try to distract myself with the faint whiff of alcohol on his breath, but he's too close to block out. And he knows it.

"Relax Silk. Relax. Now is not the time." His voice is gentle, soothing, and I'm disgusted. This boy, this boy who has been training his whole life to kill me, is comforting me. And it's working. I do feel relaxed, I do feel more controlled. I do feel at home. What is wrong with me?


	12. Chapter Eleven, Training

Once Jinx let's go of me, it doesn't take the avoxes long to get a doctor to come and clean me up. I sit on the coffee table trying not to wince as he dabs away at my cuts with what he assures me is not alcohol, although I swear I can smell it. Jinx, who insists on sitting with me the entire time, and I make it to training only an hour late. Every mark on my body has been erased with a bit (ok loads) of cleverly blended make up. In fact, I apparently look a bit too flawless, because I seem to get more than my fair share of dirty glances. Nine looks particularly put out, perhaps because a not-so-close examination of his face reveals that he didn't sleep a wink last night – his eyes are ringed with black like he's been stamped with ink.

I try to ditch Jinx, but he seems intent on keeping me within his reach which, for such a massive guy, doesn't seem to be very far. So I do my best to ignore him as he trails me towards the tridents. I pull one off the rack and try to get a feel for the balance of it as Jinx takes a shot at a stationary target a few metres away. I'm more surprised than usual at the sheer power he has in those colossal shoulders. Perhaps that's because it's just become real. I'm going up against that power. And I have to luck to catch Nine's eye just as this insurmountable problem hits me, full in the face. He grins and whispers something to the person next to him, who turns to laugh in my direction. I try to ignore the quickly increasing volume, and hoots of laughter resonating through the room. I fail.

My anger, rage, fury builds until I'm red in the face, but it isn't until Jinx shoots me a warning glance that I crack. With all that I have been through lately, all my hopes that have been crushed, my future that has vanished, leaving me free falling into despair, who is he to judge me?

I fling my trident onto the ground and stomp away, ignoring his feeble calls. I seize the heaviest, meatiest looking spear I can see, find the throwing mark and take aim. Nine saunters over to stand at my side, his smile extended into a grotesque sneer.

"You sure you're ready for this sweetheart?" he jeers, "it's a big step from tying knots you know, I'd hate for you to prove your weakness."

I smile sweetly at him, "Oh, you're probably right," I take a few steps back from the throwing line, "I guess I'd better not miss then."

I let my wrath accumulate, until I'm seeing crimson red and shaking on the spot, and I hurl the spear at the target. The spear sails silently through the air and I grip my ring as I watch it lodge neatly into the bullseye.

Silence greets me as every pair of eyes in the room widens. Finally. I've regained my status. I am a Career. I am powerful, I will not be overlooked, and I certainly cannot be mistaken for weak. Even Jinx, the all mighty Jinx, looks a little shaken. Ridiculous, how many times has he seen me throw? Then I realise, he doesn't even care how well I threw. He's mad at me. The thought that he is judging me, even during my shining moment, tips me out of my pride, straight into a pit of frustration. Being around him is like scaling a mountain – just when you think you've reached the summit, you realise you're actually miles away and have to cross another ravine to get there. A never-ending mountain with no peak, just a whole lot of spikey points. For the umpteenth time, I find myself needing to get away. Anywhere, so long as he's not there. And the worst part about it is that I know that the moment I reach that elevator, I'm going to want to run back to him. And I don't understand why.


	13. Chapter Twelve, Stitches

Storming through the living room I have a strong urge to destroy anything, and anyone, in my path. And when Gardenia tries to block my way, I literally rip through her. It isn't until I've totally annihilated my room that I emerge. I'm still not ready for human contact, I just need to get back to the Training Centre. I recognise the symptoms and I know the cure. I just need to work. To run until I burn. Until I sweat. Until I focus and clear the red stains in my vision. I stride down the hallway and almost make it to the elevator, but apparently they've been waiting for me. It's an ambush, they converge upon me from all sides. There is no escape, but it doesn't matter - I'm not the sort to fly when I can fight - and just as I prepare to launch myself at the closest target, an Avox who has clearly been ordered to catch me, I'm snatched off the ground by… by a tree? By a trunk, wrapping around my waist, wooden, unyielding. The shock clears out my head, brings me back to myself. My vision clears, the room returns to its natural colour and I release it's just Jinx's arms that have wrapped around me, constrained me. I relax myself, slowly, consciously, muscle by muscle, just like they taught me.

"Again?" Jinx mumbles as he sets me down. I ignore him. He has no right. What was I thinking, telling him anyway? That information was between me and Angora. And Flourish, but I had no say in that decision.

I take a (thankfully) steady step forward and turn around, about to demand an explanation for my ensnarement, but my words are jammed back behind my tongue by the sight of Gardenia's face. I literally _ripped _through her. Her jaw line is scarred by a thin red line running from her ear to her lower lip. A thin red line decorated by little black lines. Little black stitches. I falter, step back, hit Jinx, gape.

She isn't talking. That's how I know. I have overstepped the line. For Gardenia to be silent – I have gone too far, way too far.

I stumble around Jinx, stagger towards the doors. They close mercifully behind me and the elevator slips down towards the Training Centre.

When I step out it is totally empty. Not even an Avox in sight. I decide to start at the Gauntlet – the most physically demanding of the stations. They told me physical pain should help. They were right. I run and run and jump and roll until my lungs blister. The pain lets me think, but my thoughts are still tangled.

Why do I care about this stupid Capitol woman anyway? Preparing me to die?

But this is what I wanted isn't it? I volunteered for this. She's helping me.

She's doing a rotten job. Look how messed up I am.

I've always known that I'm messed up. Figured it out years ago. Should have seen this coming.

So I've gouged out part of her face. So what?

So I'll pay. Dearly.

How? What can they do to me now? I volunteered to die. How can they possibly hurt me?

I still don't want to die. I just don't have a choice. But I can't give up, just like that.

Then what's the game plan?

An alliance.

Jinx. I know I can't win. Because Jinx will. Jinx will have no problem wiping out the competition. So I ally with him. I watch his back until I die.

District Two. They looked impressed. They'll ally with us.

District Four? Maybe. Maybe we could wipe them out after the bloodbath. Let them help with the dirty work and then dispense of them.

But once we do that, Two won't trust us. And if they don't trust us, how can we trust them?

Wait. Why do I care?

I'm going to die.

By the time I've worked my way through all of the most demanding stations, I'm no closer to organizing my mind than I was in the elevator. But at least I can think logically about my problems. And once I've reached the logic stage, I know I can handle my weapon.

I pick up a spear. Pace out my distance. Mark my target.

So I make an alliance. Just missed the target.

So I try to keep Jinx alive. Hit the edge. Just.

So I die for Jinx. Closer.

The boy who has changed so much. Almost got it.

Changed from somebody open, easy to understand, expected. Centimetres off the bullseye.

Changed into a shapeshifter, erratic, unpredictable. Shit, just missed.

So I die for Jinx. I'm running out of spears.

My best friend. Bullseye.

I sigh with the realisation that I'm going to have to apologize to Gardenia.


	14. Chapter Thirteen, Alliance

I have one day left to seal alliances. Lucky for me, it seems that Jinx has been working on that while I haven't been watching. The boy from Two, Stucco is his name, he quite frankly tells me that they didn't think I had what it takes until yesterday, and now that Jinx has accepted me (presumably he didn't want me before they realised I could throw), they're really glad to have me on board. Thanks Jinx. It's probably best that I don't blow it by freaking out again, or worse, messing up a throw, so instead of using my last day of training for something productive, I just stand around trying look impressive. Jinx follows suit, and by the time Stucco and his district partner join us, people are skirting around the edges of the room rather than walking past us. After the confusion of the past few days, it's nice to have some normality back. I wait for lunch before I bring up my plan with my allies.

I beckon them closer and they lean in, causing an immediate hush to fall over the room. Ridiculous. How are we meant to plan if every Tribute in the Games can hear us? I pause for a second, then burst into the best fit of laughter I can summon. Jinx catches on and joins me, and the other two begin to chuckle nervously, trying to look like they know what's going on. The room resumes its low drone of voices and I catch Jinx's eye. He knows the look I shoot him all too well.

"Listen up guys, this is the plan," he says, giving the Two's a welcomed cue to stop laughing.

"We need Four," I state, "both of them- don't look at me like that, just hear me out ok? We need them for the bloodbath."

By the time I've explained myself, Stucco is nodding vigorously and his partner, whose name has turned out to be Arkose, has sauntered off to introduce herself to the Four's. We watch quietly, and I notice the muscles in Jinx's back relax when finally, she shakes hands with them. The relief is short-lived, as the loud speaker crackles to life.

"Tributes, Private Training has begun. Summoning Jinx, District One."

Every pair of eyes in the room, including mine, fall on Jinx. He stands up and takes my hand. Shakes it. Smiles. Walks away.

Arkose comes and sits beside me, beckoning the Four's over to our table. They each take a seat opposite me. We don't bother with introductions. I tell them the plan.

The Four's are bulky kids, both eighteen, trained since birth. Could easily crush me. But dim. They trust us wholeheartedly. They will act as our bodyguards in the bloodbath. It's a simple job and I expect them to execute it well. The Two's are smaller, but still big enough to inflict quite some damage. They're smarter than the Four's, but I sense that my 'grater' plan has worked. By including them in a plan to betray their allies, they will not be expecting their allies to betray them. The Two's will be on supplies, gathering anything they think we will find useful, and dispatching any Tribute who gets in their way. The One's, that's Jinx and I, we get the fun job. I'm the slightest of the pack, but Jinx and I are the most skilled. We're on weapons.

"Summoning Silk, District One."

I pop out of my chair, trying to look excited, as if I cannot imagine anything better than being judged by a room of Gamemakers who are planning the most entertaining way to kill me. I nod to each of my allies, spin on my heel, stride out. Head high. Eyes forward. Deep breaths.


	15. Chapter Fourteen, Crane

Being from District One makes me lucky. I'm the second Tribute in. The Gamemakers are focussed. Although a couple look a little shaken. Jinx obviously made an impression.

I stand before them in the centre of the room, unsure of what they want. They stare back. Finally, Seneca Crane, the Head Gamemaker, rises from his plush seat. If I had a seat like that I would never leave it. But he has had chirs like this one all his life, I realise. Of course he doesn't mind standing for a moment. He speaks up.

"You have everything in this room at your disposal. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour." I groan inwardly at the use of the Games catch phrase as he sinks back into the softness of the Capitol. I look around. What's in the room? Weapons, Gauntlet, berries, rope, avoxes. Avoxes. Did he really mean it? Everything? I'm about to find out.

I wave an avox towards me. She stumbles in terror and walks over. I shove her into place right in front of the Gamemakers. Look at Crane, questioning. He nods. I scan the room and spot the spear rack. Run at it, why not take my opportunity to show them that I'm fast as well? It's on wheels, so I push it to line up with the avox, at my best throwing distance. I should let her face away. If she flinches, moves even the smallest of a measure, she'll ruin the whole effect. So I leave her facing the Gamemakers and take my place behind her.

I start with the smallest spear, light, easy to manage. It glides through the air and whistles past her face, just above the left shoulder, just beside the jaw. I take the next smallest and throw it to her right. Same thing. I can hear her whimpering. Should have more faith in me than that. She is standing with her feet apart, so the next spear slips between her kneecaps. I have two more spears. I advance on the avox and she yelps as I push her aside, replacing her body with a fake one. They probably wouldn't care if I killed her, but they might not be too impressed with having to wait whilst her servant friends clean up the mess. I return to the spear rack, lodge one through the heart of the dummy.

The heaviest spear remains. A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to lift it, let alone throw it. Jinx had me doing weight training for months before the selection. I should thank him sometime.

I hoist it off the rack in one hand, a small feat in itself, and step backwards. The extra weight will give me more momentum. I can throw this further. I take a deep breath, send all my oxygen to my muscles, prepare. Bend my knees, extend my aim, lean into the weight. Pitch the spear into the air. Clutch my token. I watch as the spear sails towards the lifeless form ahead of it, connects with the head. The tip sticks, but the tail wants to continue. It lurches forward, somersaulting, and the force wrenches the head clean off.

I look up at the Gamemakers. I smile. I curtsy. I leave.


	16. Chapter Fifteen, Score

The plush couch looks incredibly welcoming as I wander out of the elevator and see my companions almost wriggling with anticipation at hearing a recount of my scoring. It seems as though they've already heard about Jinx's training, seeing as he is one of the shaking pups sitting in front of me. There isn't much choice really, so I have an avox fill me a glass of juice before I sit down and fill them in.

It's not a long story, but it judging by the expression on Gardenia's face, it is riveting. Flourish looks a little overwhelmed actually. I wonder what Jinx did.

I don't have to wait long to find out, because the moment my story ends and my mouth closes, Flourish's bursts open and everything spills out. Jinx, the show off that he is, couldn't refrain himself from trying something new. And stupid. He dragged five Avoxes into the centre of the room and tied them together in a circle then stood inside the circle, using it as a shield, and shot arrows through the gaps at random objects. It all went fine until one of his arrows hit a light. The shower of sparks scared his shield which, long story short, sat on him. A smug grin escapes as I glance in his direction and see his surly expression.

"It would have been perfect," he sulks, "if the stupid animals had spines."

"Jinx, honestly, when will you learn to practice things before showing them off?" I chuckle. A memory washes over me as I think of our first lesson together at the Training Academy back home. Jinx had marched into the room – late, I might add – winked at me, picked up a training spear and almost impaled the instructor with it when his aim failed. It was a moment that defined both of us really – it inspired me to try spear throwing, since I was always hungry to show up the cocky boy that dared wink at me, and it instilled a deep hatred of spears into the depths of Jinx's mind.

Jinx is still in a huff when we gather around the television in the evening, anxiously awaiting our scores. I don't say anything, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I may have outscored Jinx. My private training had run smoothly, whereas his had been a rather rough ride. Caesar Flickerman pops onto the screen in his midnight blue, sparkling suit, this year sporting sunshine yellow as his colour of the moment. My eyes glaze over a little as he does his introduction but they refocus quickly when Jinx's face shows on the screen. I just have time to send him a reassuring glance when the number 9 flashes before me. I'm not sure what to think. I search his face for a sign of triumph, or despair. But I find neither, only a determination which stumps me. A bit late to be determined now isn't it? His score is final. Then his face disappears to be replaced by my own. His hand wraps over my token before I get a chance to grab it myself, so I just place my hand on top of his and wait. And wait. Why is it talking so- 8. Eight? Is this some kind of a sick joke? My training was brilliant! I showed them strength and skill and accuracy and innovation, what more could they want? Brawn, I realise. I'm only little compared to the other Careers, I don't have the bulging muscles and intimidating stance that they do. I'm strong, but in a subtle way that suits my chosen discipline, not in a flashy come-get-me-if-you-dare way. I turn to look a Jinx, who is carefully blanked out. Flourish looks pitying. I have to get out. I yank my hand from Jinx's and walk out. I manage to control myself until I get to the hallway and then I run. I turn my shower up as hot as it will go and take a pair of scissors to my clothes to get them off my shivering skin. Shivering with anger, that is. Anger at the Gamemakers for not giving me the score I deserve, but more than that. Anger at Jinx, for stealing my spotlight again. Anger at Flourish, for knowing that we were both volunteering. Anger at District One for choosing us both in the same year. Anger at the President for making them choose anybody. Anger at Panem for making this necessary. When I can't stand the burning heat any longer I switch off the shower and take to scraping the anger off with a heavy bristled brush. I scrape until my skin is raw and ignore the knocks on my door. I don't notice when the knocking stops and the door opens. I don't even notice when he is standing right behind me. I don't notice that Jinx is with me until he wrenches the brush out of my hands and replaces it with a towel. I stare blankly at the soft white fabric for a few seconds before I manage to break myself from the stupor I have drifted into and wrap it around myself. I reluctantly look up and meet Jinx's eyes in the mirror. He picks up my wrist and dabs at it for a moment before speaking.

"This is going to swell," he says slowly, "get back in the shower."

I do as I'm told and hand him my towel as he turns his attention to the control panel on the wall. Five minutes later I have been cooled off, coated in some sort of cream and dried and I'm pulling on a pair of pyjamas as Jinx orders food.

We sit on my bed in silence with our curries and rice. What is there to say? I've had more breakdowns in the week that we've been here than I would have in a year back home. I'm mentally unstable. The only excuse I have is that I'm not used to being looked after like this. I'm used to being ordered, and I can't handle being in charge of myself. But that seems like a fairly weak excuse considering that I have more people than ever trying to keep me in check. And Jinx, my competition, the only person I should fear, is the only person who can reach me. It suddenly hits me how wrong it all is. I put my curry down.

"You should go."

"Silk, I don't want-"

"No, you should go. Please."

He sighs heavily and got up, turning around to look me up and down before leaving.

"I'll see you tomorrow Silk."

"Night."


	17. Chapter Sixteen, Preparation

I finally get a good night's sleep, my first in the Capitol. Perhaps I've finally come to terms with my imminent death. That doesn't seem likely. So perhaps it's just that I didn't fall asleep crying or screaming or angry. But I was confused and sad. I conclude that Jinx must have had them put some sort of sleeping tonic into my food. I plan to do this exact thing before bed tonight. But between sleeping, I have a busy day to get through. Thaliana will spend the entire afternoon making me over for the interviews tonight, but before that Gardenia and Flourish will be coaching me on how to present myself. Teaching me to act as though I'm not entirely messed up.

I don't even get to eat my breakfast in peace, they load a plate for me and take me back to my room for a little privacy while they start concocting a plan for me. By lunch time I am a master assassin; mysterious, proud, guarded yet graceful. I guess I already had the proud and guarded thing going on. I eat quickly and am whisked off by my prep team to get ready. Pudge almost faints when she sees the faint scars on my limbs left over from my scratching episode, but I don't want to be pitied, so I - in no uncertain terms – tell her to shut up and get on with her job. The three of them work in near silence after that and I'm on the verge of apologising when Thaliana relieves shows up and relieves me. I guess it doesn't matter anyhow, I'll never see any of them again.

I never cease to be amazed at Thaliana's work. She dresses me in a slim black gown with a golden lining that just shimmers through the top layer, and tall black heels with tiny golden studs around the base. Straightening my hair into a flowing curtain and darkening the make up around my eyes quite effectively makes me look dangerous. I am not to be messed with tonight. The darkness of the ensemble also makes my golden tattoos – already a symbol of design, calculation – stand out above my piercing blue eyes like sentinels; imposing, lethal. As I think myself into character on my way to join the line-up of tributes, I begin to feel more hopeful than I have done since the reaping. I can feel the power radiating off my shoulders and effecting those around me and when my competition catches sight of me, they go silent once more. Jinx smirks at me wryly when I catch his eye and I can't help but notice that he has been left shirtless again.

"Not too cold Jinxy?" I joke, drawing a proper smile out of him.

"oh but I'm scorching hot my dear" he replies with a wink. I can't help but laugh as I pat him on the shoulder and turn to follow the avox who is trying to lead me towards the stage. "Best of luck Silky," I hear him chuckle.

I hold back my smile when the crowd begins to roar. I am a killer, not to be distracted by the fickle beings of the Capitol. I lift my chin higher and shake Caesars hand before settling into the gravity-defying Capitol seat and waiting for the questions to begin.

"Welcome Silk! Now, we only have three minutes, so you will forgive me if I skip the pleasantries and get straight into it. There have been rumours flying around about the relationship between yourself and your district partner. Care to set us straight?"

Wow. Talk about getting straight into it. I'm glad Gardenia had the foresight to discuss this very topic with me this morning, so I am prepared. I lift the corners of my mouth just a little and speak as clearly and concisely as possible,

"You may have noticed, Caesar, that both of the District One tributes volunteered. You may also recall that only one Victor may be crowned. If my partner and I had any sort of relationship, a friendship, even an acquaintance, what reason could we possibly have had to volunteer, knowing one of us will die?" That has him, and the audience, stumped. They were expecting some sort of tragic love story, but they've all been disappointed. What a shame. Caesar takes a moment to process and moves on. After a few comments on my dress and a round of applause for Thaliana, our time is almost up.

"I have only one last question for you Silk," Caesar implores,

"Yes?"

His gaze suddenly intensifies and he looks at me, really looks at me and when he asks, I feel that he is asking, not for the crowd, not for the audience at home, but for me.

"Are you prepared?"

I chuckle softly and look up at him through my lashes.

"Yes Caesar. I am very prepared."


End file.
